Page 27 of Timber's Girl

“Thank you for explaining, but you don't have to apologize. Just continue to let me know what you need, and we'll be good, okay?”

Breathing easier for the first time in the last hour, I consciously lower my hunched shoulders and sit straighter.

“Okay.”

He smooths his thumb over my uninjured hand, and we sit quietly eating the rest of our lunches, before Gideon voices a question.

“Why aren’t you afraid of me? Of any of the MC members?”

It’s a fair question and one I’ve asked myself numerous times. Dean was an abusive asshole and law enforcement. The Reaper’s Wolves guys are all ex-military, so on the surface, there’s not much difference between them.

They are men familiar with violence.

Yet, I’ve never truly felt fear on the compound.

Maybe it’s because Caroline vouched for the guys. Maybe Dean was so bad that I didn’t have any fear left over to worry about the Reaper’s Wolves.

“Lindy?”

“Sorry… I’m still processing my thoughts,” I say then shrug. “Honestly, there are several reasons why, but the main one is compartmentalization. Dean is one man who hurt me. He’s in a very specific box. When I look at you or Snow or any of the other guys, there’s a distinction. You’re not in the box.”

I think I hear him mutter ‘Thank fuck’ under his breath, and his palpable relief makes me smile.

Gideon has never been in the same category as Dean.

He’s got his own very special category in my heart.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

GIDEON

I invited Lindy to hang out at the gym with me a few days after our talk over mac and cheese, figuring we could both use the physical release of jumping rope or punching a bag. I hate that she struggles with triggers still, but I get it, and my chest warms at the trust she showed by allowing me to stay and discuss what happened.

Lindy arrives while I’m in the middle of sparring with Denver—a man on his way up the MMA chain. It won’t be long before he hits it big. Hopefully, spotlighting the gym with him.

I wave Lindy over to a row of chairs along the wall as I finish up.

"Alright, that's enough," Alaska calls out. Denver and I walk to our corners and gulp long drinks of water before he joins me and gestures to Lindy with his bottle.

"Is she your girl?"

"Hell yeah, so don't get any ideas." I eye him in part warning, part joking. I don't think he'd try anything, but it’s always good to let another man know where you stand when it comes to your woman.

"Point taken," he chuckles. "I just meant that she kind of stands out. Doesn't look like the usual club bunnies that hang out here and the clubhouse."

I glance at Lindy. One leg is crossed over the other as she hunches over a crossword puzzle in her lap. She started doing them a few weeks back after lamenting the state of her memory.

If she wasn't wearing tight yoga pants and a neon-colored tank, she would fit right in with the people at the senior center down the block. "That’s because she's not, but for some reason, she's chosen me anyway."

"I guess that makes you a lucky son of a bitch," Denver jokes.

“Damn straight. See you later, man.” We bump fists then I head Lindy's way. "Hey, baby."

She smiles up at me as she puts her puzzle away.Damn.I never want her to stop looking at me like that. Like I’m her favorite person in the world.

"Are you going to show me some moves now?" She playfully throws up her fists in a mock fighting stance, and I chuckle at her antics as I grab her bag.

"First, let's lock this up so no one messes with it, then I'll show you my moves." I lower my voice suggestively.

---